


Light of my Life

by Canon_Is_Relative



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fluff, Gen, M/M, POV Sam Winchester, Romance, Sibling Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-20
Updated: 2015-01-20
Packaged: 2018-03-08 08:17:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3202130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Canon_Is_Relative/pseuds/Canon_Is_Relative
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean through Sam's eyes from childhood on. Basically, a love letter.</p><p>Can be read as slash or gen. I ship it so I see it, but nothing's explicit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Light of my Life

**Author's Note:**

  * For [stardust_made](https://archiveofourown.org/users/stardust_made/gifts).
  * Inspired by [The 'Eight Seasons of Wincest' Drabbles](https://archiveofourown.org/works/976296) by [stardust_made](https://archiveofourown.org/users/stardust_made/pseuds/stardust_made). 



Dean when I’m scared, when new things don’t make sense and I can’t run away because running away is weak and anyway I don’t know how. Dean picks me up and takes me someplace safe. Dean when I’m cold at night and he calls me names but he holds me so tight. Dean wraps me tight and I couldn’t move away from him even if I wanted to. Dean when I’m hungry and he knows how to make things the right way and gives me extra bites because he knows everything tastes better from his spoon. Dean, Dean who knows everything.

Dean when I’m so tired, up too late reading, not moving fast enough and Dean brings Dad’s wrath down on himself in my place. Dean when I’m so angry, want put my fist through a wall, through ten walls, through the sky itself; Dean talks to me and makes me human again. Dean when I’m so sad, when breathing feels like sucking down saltwater, my feet tangled in weeds and a current out to get me but Dean, Dean has the hand to pull me up, pull me out; Dean holds my head above water and even if all I get is one quick gasp in the free air before I’m under again, it’s enough to last a long, long time. Dean and a box of fireworks, an open field, and a smile that sets the sky on fire. Dean, Dean; Dean who is everything.

Dean when Jess is gone. Dean when Dad won’t take our calls. Dean when I dream of smoke and screams and wake up smelling sulphur. Dean, right there, even when _Dean right there_ is impossible. Dean a ghost, a spirit, a prickle on the back of my neck and an absence in my soul when he’s not beside me and God help me, he will never not be beside me. Dean, broken, bleeding, berating himself for something that was never his fault and Dean, ten times the man he thinks he is. Also, tangentially, ten times more irritating than any man has any right to be. Dean, who carries the weight of the world on a fool’s errand. I carry it too, Dean, so let me help a little, Dean. Dean, Dean; Dean who gives me everything.

Dean, light of my life. Where have you been that I have not followed? We shared a womb, a breast, a cradle, a house and a mother for a short while. Then the backseat of a car and a broken father’s relentless reign, a thousand nameless rooms. But nameless, never, was the space between us. Dean. When I’m scared, when I’m tired, hungry, lonely, desperate and aching. When I am anything less than I am, than I should be, you are there. Dean. When I’m happy, triumphant, jubilant and overflowing, there you are. Dean. Dean, when I’m home. Dean. Home. My magnetic North and my zenith.

Dean. Light of my life.


End file.
